


you can use my skin to bury secrets in

by sweetheartbitterheart



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adult Number Five | The Boy, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Five is so dramatic in this, Fiveya Secret Santa 2020, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Mild Smut, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Protective Number Five | The Boy, Pseudo-Incest, Touch-Starved, Tragically Pining Idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28474986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetheartbitterheart/pseuds/sweetheartbitterheart
Summary: They've both been deprived of touch in varying degrees for years and neither knows how to ask for it. It's a skill that has long since atrophied.Five will only permit himself to touch Vanya if she's been injured, terribly unaware of how she's comforted by the way he handles her with care.Vanya, on the other hand, finds herself getting into situations where she'll get hurt just so Five will touch her.It's only a matter of time until one, or both, will break.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 14
Kudos: 100





	you can use my skin to bury secrets in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Existing_to_multiship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Existing_to_multiship/gifts).



> hi!! i'm your secret santa and i'm so sorry for taking a bit to post this but i really enjoyed writing it and i hope you like it 💕
> 
> title from I Know by Fiona Apple

"That was stupid."

"Five."

"And reckless."

"Five, come on."

"Stupid and reckless, and completely unnecessary."

He continues to mutter 'stupid and reckless' under his breath as he begins to pace like a caged animal.

" _Five._ "

Somehow, she is finally able to convey enough exasperation in her tone for him to falter his movements and muttering. His head jerks up in her direction, eyes ablaze with anger and something else she can't exactly pinpoint.

Energy crackles in the air surrounding them.

His gaze drops down to the bleeding wound in her side and his jaw clenches. He stomps over to her, picks her up with surprising gentleness amidst his harsh demeanor, and then blinks them out of the alleyway.

The sudden movement of Five bringing her through a portal causes a wave of nausea to roll over in Vanya's gut.

When they land in her apartment, she sways in Five's clutches, but he holds her steady with a firm grip. She lets loose a string of swears, exhausted and frustrated and hurting.

Five carefully sets her down on the couch.

"Don't move," he orders through gritted teeth.

Vanya sighs, annoyed beyond comprehension. She presses the heel of her palm against the blooming patch of blood on her side.

He blinks away to get one of the many first aid kits he's stashed away in various places throughout her apartment.

When he returns to her living room and sees that Vanya has moved into a sitting position, he frowns. He doesn't voice his displeasure but a muscle twitches in his jaw.

"I told you not to move," he scolds.

She doesn't quite glare at him, but she's clearly fuming, "So? I was uncomfortable and now I'm not."

They stare at each other with matching resolute expressions.

After a beat, Five's face pinches with irritation before he takes a breath and smooths his expression into one of nonchalance. He sits down on the coffee table across from Vanya and opens the first aid kit.

"Lift your shirt," he orders, eyes focused on her side and not her face.

Vanya obeys without another comment or complaint, gingerly lifting her shirt to show off the deep gash across her side. Five glares at the cut as if it personally offends him. She takes a deep breath as he dabs alcohol on the wound to clean it.

She hisses, tilting her head on the back of the couch and looking up at the ceiling.

Five is meticulous in the way he treats her wound, wiping away blood until the natural color of her skin appears. His ministrations are deliberate but gentle, and she is almost annoyed at how soothed she is by it.

"Won't need stitches, that's good," he mumbles, more to himself than to her.

Vanya sneaks a glance at him. His head is bent, brow furrowed, and lips set in a firm line. An urge to kiss the wrinkle between his brows floods through her.

He moves on to bandage the wound, mindful of the tender ache its caused. Once the cut is cleaned, he leans back to take a look at his handiwork.

Five avoids her gaze as he finishes bandaging her up.

"You have to be more careful," he tells her in a steady voice.

Vanya opens her mouth to speak, to say something comforting, but whatever words she hopes to find are lodged in her throat.

As if struck by lightning, she can tell exactly when his eyes finally settle back on her. Reluctantly, she raises her own eyes to his; deep brown meeting vibrant green.

He grips her wrist, "Tell me you'll be more careful."

For a brief moment, Vanya lets herself relish in the tight grip Five has on her, the heat of his skin against hers, before she nods.

" _Vanya._ "

"I will be more careful."

She can hear the thundering sound of both their heartbeats. She feels like they are on the precipice of _something_. Unconsciously, she leans forward, to do what exactly she isn't sure, but all she knows is that when Five reflexively leans away disappointment swells inside her.

He releases her wrist and she has to bite her tongue not to let out a desperate whimper.

-

As children, Five and Vanya had always been close. It was only because of Five's hubris that they lost both that closeness and potential for more. He left and they both suffered for it.

Now as adults, they've both been deprived of touch in varying degrees for years and neither knows how to ask for it. It's a skill that has long since atrophied.

Five will only permit himself to touch Vanya if she's been injured, terribly unaware of how she's comforted by the way he handles her with care.

Vanya, on the other hand, finds herself getting into situations where she'll get hurt just so Five will touch her.

-

Five did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. He did not like to be touched because he craved it. There were times when all he ached for was to be held very tight. In those moments, the only arms he imagined wrapped around him were Vanya's.

Their siblings were well aware of his aversion to touch after many unpleasant instances of someone reaching out to him or nudging him. Injuring his siblings on instinct left a bad taste in his mouth but he couldn't help it. He always felt so ashamed and embarrassed after those outbursts. None of them took it to heart, or so that was what they told him, but he still couldn't shake the notion they were all frustrated with him.

Vanya is the only exception. Her touch being the only one that does not cause his spine to tense or his stomach to churn. But they still didn't touch all that much, only when she's been hurt, which is becoming far too common for his liking.

Despite Five agreeing to an armistice with The Commission ( _until he can properly dismantle the whole institution, but what they don't know won't hurt them_ ), rogue agents seem intent on hunting them down. Unfortunately, that means their entire family has been forced into several fights with them.

It is strange and painful to see Vanya covered in blood and bruises. Out of all his siblings, she is the only one he's never had to see like this.

Five hates it.

They've all done their best in training Vanya with her newfound powers but she is still new to fighting. She's come away from a lot of these fights with scratches and bruises, once even a bullet wound. Although he doesn't think she's aware of that particular injury. Five had rewound time so fast upon seeing her bleeding out on the ground, then simply snapped the neck of the shooter before they had even grasped the gun.

Every time they walked away from a battle, Five couldn't settle down until he checked Vanya over, with his eyes ( _on good days_ ) or with his hands ( _on bad ones_ ).

Secretly grateful that she even allows him this indulgence, he can't stop the pathetic feeling that sits in his stomach afterward. Sometimes he wonders if Vanya is aware of his secret longing, and how each touch he's allowed ignites desire within him.

He wants to bury himself inside her. He wants to hold her tightly and tenderly. He wants her touch to grant him absolution. He wants, he wants, he wants.

-

Vanya dreams about touch, about hands in her hair, about arms wrapping around her holding her tight. She twists herself in her sheets, hand reaching out to touch the empty space beside her, a reminder of her permanent loneliness.

She imagines that this dream person is Five. She believes that only his touch can starve off this longing ache inside her. Shame burns in her chest every time she thinks this.

She's lost the right to him. He doesn't want her in the way she wants him. If he did then he surely would've done something about it by now, wouldn't he?

The last time Five touched her had been when a piece of rebar had nearly gutted her. He seethed and criticized, all the while cleaning the gash in her side and bandaging it up. Vanya had almost melted into the sensation of Five's deft hands carefully tending to her wound. The touch of his fingers on her bare skin felt like little sparks of electricity.

It's not a long time after that incident when Vanya gets a little hurt once more.

She's sparring with Allison and her foot gets caught underneath, sending her fumbling to the ground. She puts her hands out to brace her fall and comes away with scraped palms.

Allison winces in sympathy, "Oh, Vanya! Shit, I'm sorry."

Vanya, red-faced and panting, waves her off but accepts the hand Allison gives her, hauling her up. Allison steadies her and frowns at the raw, red skin of her palms.

Flinching when she grazes a finger down her palm, catching some blood under her nail, Vanya quietly tells her sister maybe training should be done for the day. Allison agrees and the two of them walk out of the training room.

In one of the upstairs bathrooms, Vanya washes her hands under the warm tap, wincing the entire time as the water turns pink. A small yelp escapes her mouth when she accidentally digs a fingernail into the tender flesh.

A creak signals the bathroom door opening. Vanya tilts her head to see Five wandering in, holding himself tensely, although his eyes assess her ravenously. It makes her involuntarily shiver. Her mouth twitches up, and she rolls her shoulders back. A deliberate attempt at relaxation.

"Hey," she says.

Five steps forward, "What happened?"

Her face suddenly burns with a fierce blush.

"Oh, uh, sparring with Allison. It turns out that even with powers I'm still kind of a klutz," she tries to say this casually but it mostly comes out as awkward.

She raises her hands a little to show him the abrasions on her palms. Immediately he frowns, then crowds into her space. Gently, he takes her hands in his and examines them methodically.

Vanya holds still, fighting with herself for wanting to embrace Five but holding back in fear of rejection.

"Allison should've been following my instructions. She knows better than to push you too hard," he says, voice slightly strained.

The corner of her mouth twitches up in a cheeky smile, "Maybe _I_ was the one pushing her too hard."

He lifts his gaze up to hers and takes in the curve of her smile, which almost ignites his own. For a moment, Vanya feels giddy over the thought that she's caught him expressing something other than annoyance or anger.

"You can be stubborn."

Laughter suddenly bursts from her, "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult coming from you."

His mouth twitches like he wants to laugh too. She wishes he would.

Under his breath he mutters, "Compliment."

"Weirdo."

He grunts in acknowledgment.

She sighs, "I won't learn if I don't get a little hurt, Five. You all can't keep treating me with kid gloves."

Five arches an angry eyebrow.

"You know I'm right," she adds, lightening her tone despite the tension in the air between them.

His mouth forms a thin line, unimpressed.

Frustration wells within her.

She opens her mouth to speak, to snap at him, to get him to do something, _anything_ , when she notices that he's still holding her hands. They look so small compared to his own. His thumb grazes the center of her palm and Vanya swears she can feel a tingle all the way down to her bones.

"Put Neosporin on these," he tells her.

"I was just about to."

Before she can pull her hands away from him, he drops them unceremoniously.

Still, Five watches her from the bathroom doorway as she puts antibiotic ointment on her scraped palms. The weight of his gaze makes her feel a little heady.

A thought gradually drifts in her mind until it sticks to the forefront superseding all else. The realization that she has this power over Five. That he acquiesces to her touch so readily when she grants him permission. That he holds himself back from touching her unless she is hurt.

Vanya begins to wonder what else she might do to get Five to touch her.

-

The week after her sparring tumble, Vanya spills some hot coffee on her arm as she's pouring a cup.

She jumps when she feels the scalding liquid seeping through her shirtsleeve into her skin.

There's a sudden flash of blue and a pop of sound in the kitchen announcing Five's arrival. He stands next to her, eyes alert and body positioned for a fight.

Instantly, she feels guilty.

"I just spilled some coffee," she says sheepishly.

Some of the tension leaves his posture at her admission. Still, he leans in towards her and carefully rolls up the sleeve of her shirt to check the damage.

Vanya feels her face turn as red as the superficial burn now marring her forearm.

"I've had worse," she says lightly. If it were anyone else, she would've pulled her arm away from their hold by now, but it's Five. His touch and his attentiveness has always been soothing to her.

His face pinches with irritation. She doesn't understand why. Her comment couldn't have been more innocuous if she tried.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asks, briefly glancing up at her face before returning to glare at her minuscule injury.

She blinks, "Yeah, I'm fine. My mind wandered for a minute and I forgot what I was doing."

When Five only continues to glare at her red skin, she grows restless and tries to draw her arm back to herself. His frown deepens and his hold tightens briefly before reluctantly letting go.

For a moment, Vanya is blindingly angry with herself. Angry that she can't have this, angry that he doesn't want her, angry that she's resorted to giving herself small, dumb injuries just so he'll touch her. Just as she feels the anger rising and her powers igniting, she forces herself to listen to the sounds of the kitchen, from the hum of the refrigerator to the ticking of the clock, before homing in on the intake of Five's breath and the beat of his heart. The anger gradually recedes.

Vanya sends him an embarrassed smile as she walks over to the sink. Running her arm under the cool water, she listens to Five shift around behind her. She can practically taste the nervous energy in the air of the room.

When she turns back around to face him, both her shirtsleeves rolled up and her forearm beginning to feel a little better, she watches Five pour himself a cup of what's left of the coffee.

He stares at her as he takes a long sip. They used to be able to have whole conversations with just their eyes, but now Vanya struggles to decode whatever lies within his gaze. He has gotten better at shielding his emotions while she feels like she wears her every emotion across her face.

"Oh, go ahead, help yourself," she remarks, gesturing to his mug.

His face changes, grinning as he says, "I'm never one to let good coffee go to waste."

She cocks her head to the side, "I take it that it meets your ridiculously high standards."

Five doesn't answer her. Instead his grin sharpens just before he takes another long sip. He then continues to watch her move about the kitchen while she puts on another pot of coffee.

If Vanya had returned his attentive gaze, she would've noticed just how tight he'd been gripping the handle of his mug.

-

Five worries he might be slightly unraveling. He believes there's something up with Vanya but he cannot pinpoint it and she simply will not disclose anything. It's forced him to ask their siblings if they think anything is off about Vanya but each one gives him a different answer or a confused look. Allison even gives him a pitying side-eye before trying to offer him advice. He teleports away, angry and even more confused.

He knows something is different with Vanya lately. Even after all their years apart, Five still prides himself on knowing Vanya better than anyone. He is finetuned to her behavior and facial expressions. 

He notices all too well when she becomes unfocused during training. The way her shoulders fall a little and the way she blinks repeatedly giving away either exhaustion or boredom. It frustrates him in more ways than one. She needs to stay focused in training so she can use her powers to protect herself, and she should be giving him her full attention.

Childish jealousy leads him to childish aggression.

They've gone from trajectory training with her powers to more practical combat training. When Vanya puts her arm up to defend herself from his incoming punch, he shifts position quickly, surprising her instead by moving to tackle. She gasps, shifting her weight and raising a fist to hit him but Five moves again, this time behind her. Because of his quick thinking and maneuvering, Vanya loses her balance, leaving her to stumble forward.

Five jumps to catch her before she lands on her face. She gives him an exasperated smile but it doesn't reach her eyes so he knows she's not truly annoyed with him. It takes everything inside him not to lean down and kiss the expression off her face. Her hand brushes his, sending a jolt through him, when she untangles herself from his embrace.

Five aches to return the gesture but with a glance down at his hands he stops himself. He finds his hands are not fit for holding. They are meant to maim and hurt and tear through time and space. Vanya should be disgusted by the things his hands have done. He shouldn't be tarnishing her with his touch.

So, a few days later when Vanya gets a papercut, he decides not to react. Externally, at least. Internally, he frets. He wants to rush over to her and take her hand. He wants to kiss away the blood on her skin.

Watching her suck the tip of her finger into her mouth, face crinkled with annoyance, Five tries to stamp down the racing of his heart and hopes Vanya doesn't notice the difference.

-

The last person Five wants to see when he is drunk and commiserating is Klaus. But there he is, nonetheless.

Actively avoiding his brother's approach, Five pours himself another drink. The liquor is a welcomed burn down his throat.

There is a restless energy about Klaus that Five notes settling over the parlor at the moment. He can feel Klaus's expectant gaze on him and he tries not to let too much irritation show on his face.

"I'm not in the mood, Klaus," he says without looking up.

Klaus mock gasps, "I didn't even say anything!"

Five glances his way briefly, "You didn't have to."

"Why the long face, old man?" Klaus tilts his head, smirking, but his eyes are bright and clear.

Five throws back his drink, ignoring the question.

"I won't judge whatever it is," Klaus continues, waggling his eyebrows and inching ever closer to Five. "Cross my heart," he makes a little X gesture over his chest.

Klaus has always been the most tactile of their bunch and Five knows it bothers his brother that he can't stand being touched, even by his fellow cult members.

Guilt and irritation war inside Five.

"Does it maybe have anything to do with Vanya?" Klaus tries, teasing lilt to his voice, as he leans in towards Five.

Five's grip on his glass tightens.

"She's been awfully clumsy lately. I don't remember her being such a klutz when we were kids, but then again I never paid attention to her..." Klaus rambles on, but Five's mind stays stuck on him pointing out Vanya never having been so clumsy. She has always held herself with shy grace, more stiff than uncoordinated.

"You think it's weird Vanya being clumsy?" Five interrupts, finally turning to face Klaus.

Klaus blinks at him, then slowly studies him, from his weary face to his rumpled clothes. Surprised concern builds in his eyes, and Five's jaw clenches. He doesn't need a lecture from Klaus, of all fucking people, about his drinking habits. Especially not now.

Klaus shrugs, "Uh, I guess?"

Five hums, brow furrowing. He feels more confused than he did when he started drinking hours ago. He can almost map out an answer to this equation of him and Vanya but it's still beyond his full comprehension.

The sound of Klaus putting his feet up on Five's barstool from where he's slouching in his own pulls him out of his reverie.

"Maybe she's trying to get your attention," he speculates to Five, teeth flashing in a mischievous smile.

Five stiffens, " _My_ attention?"

Klaus's smile practically becomes lascivious, "Oh, _you know_."

Rolling his eyes, Five teleports to behind Klaus and kicks the barstool out from underneath him. He fumbles to the floor gracelessly, long limbs barely managing to break his fall.

"Rude!" Klaus exclaims, pointing a finger up at him accusingly.

With a shrug, Five teleports once more, to behind the bar this time. He snags a bottle of scotch. Drinking in his bedroom sounds much more appealing than suffering the company of another person.

Before he teleports upstairs, Klaus opens his mouth again.

"Diego was right. You _do_ need to get laid," he remarks, "ASAP!"

Five scowls at his brother, almost moving to go kick him, but Klaus just has to tack on something else. "Go ask your precious Vanya. I'm sure she'd be more than eager."

Too drunk and confused and irritated, Five simply blinks out of the room. Once back in the safety of his childhood bedroom, he unscrews the bottle of scotch and takes several gulps. He sinks down to his bed, balling his hands into fists.

Klaus is just saying that to get a rise out of him. He couldn't mean. There's no way. He's misreading things. What did he know that Five didn't? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He's _Klaus_.

Why did he phrase it like that? His precious Vanya. _His_.

Five groans, putting his head in his hands. Heart full of agonizing guilt and pitiful hope.

-

It happens so suddenly Vanya is baffled how it even occurred. One minute she's using her powers to suck energy from some Commission agent and then the next she is being pushed back by an unseen force, striking her head against hard cement.

Time stops. Or really just her perspective of it. She wonders, briefly, if this is what it feels like for Five when he's traveled through time.

Vanya loses consciousness for less than a minute but it's enough to confuse her thoroughly when she rouses. She cries out and raises her hands to cover her head. When she pulls her fingers back, she finds blood. Waves of panic and nausea flood through her.

During her time unconscious, the person responsible for her current head injury has had their neck snapped.

Dizzy and disoriented, she tries to stand up but her feet give out underneath her. A weak whimper falls from her lips.

Five is beside her in an instant, quiet and furious. The fury is not directed at her but at everyone and everything around them.

"Vanya!" he snaps, grasping her face between his thumb and index finger. He locks his eyes on hers, trying to gage her awareness. He frowns when he notices how dilated her pupils are.

She whimpers again, even dizzier from the sudden movement.

"F-Five," she mumbles, blinking rapidly, trying to focus on him, "I don't feel so good."

There are loud voices all around them. They make Vanya's ears ring and her head throb even more. She winces at the onslaught of the frantic overlapping voices.

Five shouts something over his shoulder at the voices. It brings the noise to a halt. If Vanya were capable of it at the moment, she would've given him a grateful smile.

In one swift but gentle movement, Vanya is being lifted up and cradled in strong arms. Another wave of nausea rolls over her. She squeezes her eyes shut in distress and rests her head against Five's shoulder.

"Wait, are you really gonna leave us here to clean up this mess?" she hears Diego complain.

Instead of responding to him, Five leans down to whisper in her ear, "I'm about to jump in a second, okay?" He waits until she gives a shaky nod before teleporting, leaving their family behind to sort out the mess.

It takes a moment for Vanya to realize Five brought them to her apartment. She's hit with another wave of dizziness after the jump. Her fingers tangle in his shirt, clenching the fabric tight. Five clutches her closer to his body and brushes his lips against the crown of her head, making her shiver.

He makes no move to put her down and while Vanya is selfishly enjoying being held by him, she's aware they can't stay like this forever.

She takes a trembling breath, "Five, you can put me down now."

He grunts.

"Five," she pushes, her voice still small.

After no response for almost a minute, he glances down at her, his jaw clenched and his eyes lined with worry.

"I can't," he tells her very quietly.

Vanya blinks, "You can't?"

Five just shakes his head.

She notices then that his hands that holding her are shaking just a little bit. Her heart begins to pick up its pace.

She sighs, "Well, can you at least sit down? With me?"

For a moment nothing happens, but then Five is moving. Carefully, he sits down on her sofa, adjusting his hold on her until she is secured in his lap. 

Vanya almost feels like she could doze off in his arms. She still feels dizzy and sore, but Five's arms around her are warm and comforting. The selfish side of her is preening under his attention. She doesn't get a chance to fall asleep though because suddenly Five is grabbing her face to examine it.

He mutters to himself as he studies her face and gently tilts her head. She knows she has a minor head injury but the details of it are so fuzzy that she still can't quite believe it actually occurred.

She tries to stay still while Five surveys her but it's difficult. She cannot stand the silence under his penetrating gaze.

Quietly, she asks, "Aren't you going to scold me?"

"What use would that do now?" he replies in a strained voice.

"Don't know. But that's never stopped you before."

His eyes flicker to hers and she almost smiles.

A finger traces the gash on the back of her head which causes her to wince. Five's face goes stormy.

"I need the first aid kit," he says but makes no move to get up for it.

Vanya decides to take pity on him. "I promise I won't move. There's a kit in the kitchen so you don't even have to go that far," she says, eyes wide.

Five thinks it over for a minute. "You promise?"

She starts to nod but it only makes her wince again and Five frown. "Yes, I promise. I'll be good," she asserts.

With the utmost care, he places Vanya back against the sofa cushions and stands up. She lies back, sinking into the softness as exhaustion hits her full force.

Five blinks in and out of the room so quickly that the moment Vanya shuts her eyes he is huffing out a groan.

"Vanya, no!" he yells and her eyes flutter back open. "You might have a concussion. You can't fall asleep."

There is no response that she can give that will change his mind so she just pouts.

Five tends to the wound at the back of her head and thoroughly checks out the rest of her. She only has a few other minor bruises but he looks at them as if they are grave injuries.

Vanya is too tired to argue with him. Her eyelids keep fluttering as she tries to stay awake but between her overall exhaustion and Five's gentle caresses, she is losing the battle with sleep.

"Tired. I wanna sleep," she whines, pouting like a child.

Five's eyes are sharp and intense as he says, "No, Vanya, you can't. You've gotta stay awake."

She huffs in annoyance and tries to wriggle out of his grasp. His tight grip turns painful.

"Vanya, _please_ ," he beseeches, voice tight and strangled.

She stops wriggling around.

Five barks orders, he doesn't make requests. Vanya can hardly remember a time when he ever said please, and this moment has her stunned. Five asking please, of her.

Vanya looks up and her heart aches as she takes in the pained and panicked look on Five's face. His eyes are wide and wild, and there's a muscle twitching in his jaw. His bangs have fallen forward and are sticking to his forehead. Her eyes catch the few gray strands in his dark hair and she almost reaches out to brush it back.

Her mouth falls open, unsure of what to say.

She had come to accept that Five cared for her as much as he was able, but to see him react like this gives her hope he may care for her in the way she desires.

Five thinks he's going to rip apart at the seams from all the emotion that's coursing through him right now. His chest feels tight and heavy, and his hands will not stop shaking. Beads of cold sweat pour down his spine.

It is difficult for him to try to even out his breathing and refrain from holding Vanya when just her touch comforts him above all else.

With blood rushing in his ears, he does not hear her whispering his name until he feels the faint brush of a finger along the inside of his wrist.

He lifts his eyes up to meet Vanya's, which are filled with concern, and he feels a cry rise in his throat.

Swallowing thickly, he whispers, "Vanya."

"Five, I'm okay now. It's alright. Everything's alright," she reassures softly, her fingers beginning to trace patterns into the skin of his wrist.

He opens his mouth to speak again but no words make it past his tongue.

"I'm sorry. I know I should've been more careful," she says.

Five groans and pulls his hand away from her. His treacherous heart beating double time in his chest.

He catches her eye again, looking a little apologetic, guilty wrinkles on his slightly furrowed eyebrows and compassionate eyes. Vanya reaches up and touches the crease of his brow, smoothing away anything that isn't content on his expression.

"I think you're having a panic attack, Five," she tells him.

"Vanya," he says, voice strained and ragged in a way that sparks both her compassion and desire something _fierce_.

He turns his head to the side, his lips grazing her palm, causing her breath to catch. Sometimes when Five touches her, it's like her mind is gone. The only words she knows become lost in his body.

The next words out of his mouth give him much needed relief but also immense pain. "I thought I might lose you again tonight," he tells her brokenly.

Vanya makes a sound of sympathy.

"I know it's selfish and I don't have the right, but if anything were to happen to you again I wouldn't be responsible for my actions," he says, voice lowering to an almost growl.

She opens her mouth to interrupt but Five continues on, "I will not exist in a world without you in it. I will always do what I must and reverse time to keep you safe and intact." _And mine, at least in my heart_ , he thinks but does not say.

She makes an adorably confused face at his admission.

They sit in silence for a moment, both letting those words settle over them both.

Vanya's eyes glitter with tears as she gazes at him, her voice coming out small when she finally speaks, "Do you love me?"

Five's eyes widen comically, he fumbles for the words, "I… Vanya, I…"

He has always been the braver of them two but now he finds he can't say the words he desperately wants to, but it's alright because Vanya finds the boldness they both need.

"Because I love you," she says. He starts to shake his head but she grasps his face between her hands, "I'm in love with you, Five."

Vanya has always had her own gravitational pull over him, so it's no surprise that he leans into her comforting touch.

After a long moment, Five manages to find his voice, "Vanya, I love you too."

Happy tears spring from her eyes as she throws herself into his arms, uncaring of her possible concussion and other injuries. He wraps his arms around her, cradling her to his chest with tenderness and reverence. His lips graze her temple then her cheeks until finally brushing against her lips. She sighs into his mouth giving him the chance to slip his tongue inside. They moan in unison.

When he spares her a breath, she whispers, "Can we go to my room?"

He arches an eyebrow, "Your room?"

Vanya blushes, "Just to lay down. To sleep."

With careful hands, Five lifts her up and carries her to the bedroom. "No sleeping until I say so," he orders kindly.

"Yes, sir."

They settle into her bed, wrapped up in each other, cuddling close. Five nuzzles his nose into the side of her face, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. She hums contentedly, feeling light and warm.

Eventually, after hours of them cuddling and kissing, Five deems it safe enough for Vanya to sleep and they both drift off.

In the early morning light when they both wake slowly, their bodies entangled, Vanya whimpers Five's name. He responds with a deep kiss that soon turns hungry. Their clothes fall away and their bodies come closer together.

When at last Five seats himself deep inside her, their hips locked, and Vanya feels a fullness that has nothing to do with his cock. She revels in it, digging her nails into his back, claiming him even as he claims her.

She's making noises she barely recognizes, mewling, whimpering, feline noises as she tips over to a devastating orgasm.

"Missed you, I wanted you close for so long," she whimpers.

"I'm here, I'm here," he pants as he continues to thrust forward.

Vanya knows Five is about to come and while she's fantasized about watching this, she closes her eyes, letting herself feel it all instead. He pours himself between her legs with a strangled, almost wounded moan. "Vanya. _Vanya_."

When they've both come down from their high, she rolls onto her front giving Five the opportunity to lie along her back, his warm weight a comfort. He nuzzles against the nape of her neck, kissing the soft skin tenderly. She feels her body blossom into a full blush.

"Long time coming," she mumbles, chuckling a little.

His arms wrap around her midsection, pulling her in closer to him, molding her against the shape of his tired frame.

"I'd say it was worth the wait," he says in between her shoulder blades, nipping the skin affectionately.

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays! happy new year!!
> 
> thank you for reading ❤❤❤❤


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